The Weird Shit Elves Do
by MalenW
Summary: A series of stories written in the voice of Varric Tethras
1. The Elfroot Hunt

The Weird Shit Elves Do: Undercroft Craft

Lavellan always enjoys her stays back at Skyhold.  
She is still amazed by the grandeur of her new home.  
When she is not addressing her council, or spending time with her new fiends; she often walks the halls and battlements of Skyhold. There are days when the others sit in the tavern and discuss her to themselves.

"I hope she is doing okay." Varric always the concerned one.  
"She is tough, even the Qun recognized this."  
"I don't get it." Sera shakes her head throwing up her arms, "there are baddies and people too small for their hats, but she is huge. But she stays small."  
"There are not many people I admire. But, I'm still done picking all that elfroot." Dorian jests. 

The tavern is dim, warm, and the songs fill the air around them. Drunken laughter and a unity is building in this place. The group is diverse as has ever been seen. Alliances between enemies sit in the wooden chairs, leaving behind enough power to resonate throughout the walls. 

That night, Lavellan quietly leaves her quarters too busy in thought to sleep.  
She sneaks her way to the undercroft, everyone has met their slumber.  
It peaceful but hard and cold. Keeps her alert.  
She pulls out her blades, a bit worn from the many uses of late.  
Sitting to sharpen her blades. Slowly grinding the blade against the stone. Sparks flying around her.  
She moves the blade up and down the spinning stone carefully.  
Her love of her craft can be seen across her face. There is intent and commitment in her movements.

She is not the only one stirred this night and she soon feels the presents of another.  
He walks slowly over to her, in his proud manner. Before he can speak, she is already taking note of him.  
She stops her craft and turns to look at him, "I am sorry if I made you stir."

"You didn't make me do anything, I am here because I want to be." His eyes filled with the beauty he held her in. Pulling out his staff he starts working on some improvements of his own.

They sit in silence, each perfecting their weapons in steady thought.

After getting her blades to the perfect edge she goes to sheath them. He walks over before she can do so. "May I?" Holding out his hand.  
She raised an eyebrow tilting her head in question.  
"He places his hands on her blades and recites an old elven blessing. Like a song leaving his lips and she is lost for a moment, in him." Pulling the blades from her hands he sheaths the weapons that she wields in complete grace. Passion is filling the area around them.  
She sits still and steady watching his hands as the move towards her. Her body is tingling and heart beats hard. Keeping her breath feels impossible.  
"You should sleep we have a long day tomorrow."  
Looking at him in longing she whispers, "how can I in a moment like this?"  
Pulling her hands towards his chest, he pulls her up from her seat and places a gentle kiss on her lips.  
Their bodies fully touching now, he holds her close for a moment.  
He leads her out of the undercroft and hand in hand they walk toward her quarters.  
No words are shared between the two on the walk up the steps. None are needed.  
He pulls back the covers of her bed and gently lays her down. Kneeling beside her, his knees on the floor. She holds his hand close to her chest, her heart beat radiating through him.  
Brushing his fingers through her hair, he stays by her side until she falls into sleep.

Quietly walking out to the main hall, staff in hand he is met by an unexpected face.  
"Varric. "He states in an awkward stance.  
"Solas," Varric replies walking on in avoidance.

Varric had been sitting at his table by the fire the whole time, He saw Lavellan go to the undercroft although he did not see Solas go in, just come out, and he assumed Solas was already in there.  
He goes into the undercroft to nose about, as spying is his pastime.  
On the table lay Lavellan's weapons. Shining and sharp.  
"Well, I guess they were working on something after all, disappointing." Varric mumbles to himself.  
Leaving the undercroft he is left in thought.

Many nights pass and there is no sign of Solas and Lavellan meeting or interacting beyond their fighting, discussing of the enemy they face, or the hours Lavellan lays on the couch in Solas room asking boring questions about the Fade and spirit stuff.

There has got to be something going on, Varric thinks to himself.  
Those two are connected, I just don't know how.

A few more nights pass, and again Lavellan make her way quietly to the undercroft.  
Sharping her blades.  
This time, Varric has stashed himself in a crate. If he were to figure it out, he had to be in the place itself; confiding in himself to distract from the awkward position he finds himself in.  
This time, as the last, Solas shows up. They work on their craft in mostly silence and just the same, Solas says something in elven like a blessing or song and walks Lavellan off to bed. Never staying long enough to justify anything more.

Varric, leaves the croft after a safe amount of time, just shaking his head. Just some other weird shit elves do, I guess. Unable to shake the feeling that there is something more.

Out in battle, Varric has become more aware of the movements and actions of his new elf friends.

Sera, elf as she may not think she is, plays her battle field. Every movement she makes is to find an advantage and show up her combaters. She has mastered her skills to the point of being bored by kills.  
But, she makes up for that in her mild taunts and playful mannerisms.  
If an enemy gets too close, you can catch her slipping her knife across their straps making them lose their breastplate or satchels, as she flips back sending a barrage of arrows to meet them. Grinning as she stops to wave their stolen goods at them as they take their last breath.

Solas is protective on the battle field. He uses a magic that is rare and just experiencing the fight with him is a lesson in itself. He holds no joy in his fight (as Sera does) but he is fierce. Even though he may not admit to the fun, there is nothing quite like the moment where a giant fade fist just upper cuts the face of an unprepared foe. I cannot believe he does not secretly think to himself – EAT IT!  
Bull once tried to get him out of his shell and boast a bit, but he completely bored up the moment. Solas is just so real, it sometimes hurts. Someone need to put some elfroot in his drink. Varric sighs thinking about the battle banter that is lost in his matter of fact ways. As Sera would say, too elfy.

Lavellan may be tiny, but she hits harder than expected. After seeing how she treats her blades, I understand her more on the battle field. She is a huntress, stalking her prey, twisting in and out of a fight leaving the enemy shaking in his boots wondering where the next hit is going to come from. She is like a dance with death and she is leading the way.

I am pretty sure she enjoys killing the shems, though I am not sure I want to know her answer.  
If I have learned anything thing about elves from her it would be - don't mess with their hunters.  
In the very beginning she had skills, we all saw them. When we were out hunting some rams for the people in the Hinterlands, out of the blur she disappears and then reappears with both knives hooked into the ram, as it falls. I thought the ram was going to just run off dragging her with him, so I looked at Solas who sends a burst of ice, only to be met with her sheathing her blades.  
But, the moment I started watching her, I mean really watching her, I saw her literally gut a guy.  
It's not enough that she stabs bother her knives into their backs ripping them to the ground, but I have seen her reappear in front of another and take her blade, gut them, then dash over to hit the next guy.

But, the craziest moment, is when her and Solas meet eyes as the last foe hits the ground. Both still in their battle stances, facing each other. Their breathing labored and they both just… look at each other. It just makes me think harder about her, her knife love, and Solas doing whatever weird elf stuff he does to them.


	2. Cookie Bake-off

The Weird Shit Elves Do: Cookie Bake Off

The tavern always smells of warming wood, musky and deep. Mixtures of stale  
booze and sweat brushes the tip of her nose while she makes her way up the  
steps. The tavern always seems so malodorous when it's empty.  
The colorful odor of sandalwood makes its way through as she steps to the second floor of the tavern and grows stronger as she approaches Sera's room. It's by far her favorite room.  
Colorful and eclectic, with a comfortable view, the feeling of home wraps around her.

Sera is sitting and pacing in a nervous fashion.  
"Oh! Hey you came." She speaks out in a confused surprise.  
"And why would I not?" Lavellan tilts her head questioning.  
"Well, I knew you said you would, but you know…stuff…and things, they… well so are we on then?" Sera fumbles around her words, not able to force out the ones she wants to use.  
"Ready and waiting." Lavellan's lips brush with a smirk.

The two walk up the steps, and out to the messy room attached to the tavern.  
"You'd think they'd clean this room up, yeah?" Sera shows her disapproval.  
"It is in need of some attention." Lavellan agrees.

The battlements are still frozen this early, the sun just barely making its way up to meet them.  
The cold air forcing the two women to wrap their own arms around their chests.  
"So yours get cold first two, yeah?" Sera tosses out her unfiltered topic.  
"I suppose they do." Lavellan replies looking down at her chest, having never really thought about it.  
"Ha, got you thinking about tittie's." Sera laughs out.  
Continuing their walk, laughing about the oddities of their own chests. They make their way through Cullen's quarters, quietly. Sera take the opportunity to mix up some of his paper work; trying to hold in her snickers. Lavellan just smiles and nods her head in a way to say -_ he is going to get you one day_.

They continue their morning walk, over to the kitchen.  
The room is empty as much else is this early. But the fires are still burning hot.  
"So, what kind of cookies are we making?" Lavellan asks Sera moving the topic to their planned event.  
"Oatmeal! No, Chocolate Chip! No, wait… Pumpkin... No…" Sera, taking this very seriously, is a bit frustrated that she cannot focus on just one kind.  
"How about we make them all, in large batches?" Lavellan suggests.  
Sera's eyes light up, "we can do that? Of course we can, yes! A pile, no tower of cookies!" Her childlike excitement glowing from her, in innocents.

Meanwhile, Bull has stirred from a restless night of sleep. So many reflections forcing through his mind, he decides to get his mind off of the thoughts. On days like these, he likes to take in distractions and pleasures of the mind. So he decides to get dressed and make his way to go bother the red head in the kitchen. 

On his way through the courtyard, he runs into Varric who is heading out of the stables.  
The two exchange greetings.  
"Blackwell sure comes in handy with his carvings, had a chip in Bianca. You'd never know it was there now." Varric explains his ventures out so early.  
"Yeah, he has the hands for it." Bull responds, feeling a bit awkward. Not wanting to explain his intent.  
But, he would not have to, within seconds they both hear a loud yelling coming from the kitchen.  
The two look at each other and run towards the kitchen and bust open the door.

Both standing with mouths wide.

Sera and Lavellan have cookies cooling all over the counters. Lavellan is bending over putting more cookies in the oven, a flour hand print marks her right butt cheek, while Sera is covered head to toe in flour, with cookies crammed in her mouth.  
Lavellan stands up abruptly, she has flour all over her front side and some melted chocolate smeared on the left side of her face, and pretty sure there is a clump of oatmeal paste in her hair. The kitchen looks like a flour bomb exploded dusting everything, egg shells broken in piles, Sera goes back to yelling at the butter mix she is churning up for the next batch. Lavellan, trying with everything she's got to hold back her laughter, "you guys want some cookies…" snorting after the words come out, unable to keep it all in.  
Varric and Bull just walk back out of the doorway and gently shut the door.

The room bursts with laughter, muffled by the closed door.  
"I'm guessing today will not be a good day to bother the red head." Bull releases his thought.  
"Yeah, I'm just going to pretend that I know nothing of this, don't send her my way if she starts asking." Varric states walking off so as not to be in the area when the cook shows up.

Later that day, the taverns bar and tables are filled with piles of cookies, no one really quite knowing where they came from. Bull and Varric just smile at each other, shaking their heads. Troops, scouts, and anyone getting the news, are showing up. Laughter's fills the tavern inside and out. The cook's anger is short lived as she is receiving praises from everyone, thinking she was to blame for the piles of cookies.  
Lavellan and Sera are sitting on the roof outside Sera's room with a platter filled with cookies of their own, watching everyone below.

Cole, very much enjoying the day, sends mental whispers to his friend, who is far away now. Reminding him of the joy that lives here now in hopes he'll soon return. 


	3. Cookie bake-Off Part two

Cookie Bake Off - Part 2

She opens the door, slowly.  
Makes her way around the rubble and wood still laying along the pathway.  
"Lazy butts." She whispers to herself.  
Quietly she sneaks through the last door and softly up the steps.  
Lavellan is sleeping, soundly in her bed.  
She takes a moment to look her friend over.  
Her face mushed up against her pillow, mouth crooked open, drool puddles in the corner,  
leaving its wet pattern on the pillow case. Her arms tucked underneath the pillow.  
Blankets are half kicked off the bed, and her legs looks as if she was frozen in place in  
the middle of a wild leap.  
She snickers in her playful manner. Thinking about how funny the picture is when it all comes together.  
"3…2…1…" She whispers, leaping onto the bed, elbow first into the pillow that lay empty by Lavellan's head.  
Lavellan jumps up! Fear, surprise, the pull of shock jolting her to sit up, in reaction.  
Barely gaining her vision she sees Sera laying on her back now, smiling.  
Her heart still pounding in her chest. She takes a breath.  
"Sera!" she bursts out, still not clear enough in her head to form a complete thought.

"Morning beautiful! So I had this thought. Or rather I was dreaming a thought. It was such a great idea. You said if I ever had an idea to help, that you'd listen. So here I am with… a thought, or idea, or dream." Sera's excitement fumbles her thoughts.  
Lavellan wipes the drool from the side of her face and lays back down right into the now cold wet spot on her pillow, she pulls back away from it, with a look of disgust on her face.  
"Yeah, you made a good one there" Sera jests. "Musta been a good sleep."  
"It was." Lavellan snaps back. "It's 4 in the morning, Sera. What is so important?"  
"So this dream yeah? I was thinking, or dreaming about cookies. Ya know, and like how everyone loved eating them. Like everyone…" her voice drops down into her drawn-out words. "People were all over those cookies. The tavern had never seen so many faces. Then the cookies were real, and angry." Sera scrunches her face to mimic the cookies feelings. "They started choking people by shoving themselves into their mouths and suffocating them. It was crazy yeah! Cookies killing people." Sera's excitement starting to bubble up. "It got me thinking, what if we made cookies that killed people?" Her face open and full, eyebrows raised up.  
"Cookies that kill people?" Lavellan rolls onto her back, catching her thoughts up with Sera's fast paced energy. Bringing her hand up to rub her eyes. She already knows she will not be sleeping past this point.  
"Yeah, well not like little beasts that actually jump down people throats, though that would be fun to see, but bringing them to life would mean magic, blood magic and cookies don't have blood, unless we put blood in them, but then.." her thoughts spinning out in her excitement to get to her idea.  
"Sera, what are you going on about?" Lavellan sends in a response to help slow Sera's unwinding thoughts.  
"Yeah, no blood magic cookies, I don't even know where that…anyway, poison." Sera completes part of her thought.  
"You want to poison the people with cookies?" Lavellan starting to gain clarity in this cold, abrupt morning surprise.  
"Well, not our people, but the baddies. Like the bees. Those work yeah? Instead of bees that are all loud and buzzy, broken glass. When we need to be quite, yeah? We can make cookies, we fill them with poison. Because everyone loves cookies. My people can leave them places or send them to the baddies." She finally completes the idea. Raising herself into a sitting position on Lavellan's bed. "I thought about throwing them at people, but I think they would just get angrier and I'd waste a cookie."  
Lavellan sits up to meet Sera's gaze. "Poisoned cookies. Bull's chargers could use those too. They like fun ways of killing people."  
"See now you're comin' round." Sera, just realizing how weird it would be if she had to walk out of Lavellan's room with a cookie denial weighing on her. Not the kind of walk of shame she ever thought of.  
"Would we need labels, because we don't want anyone mistaking them for actual cookies?" Lavellan breaks into the serious side of the topic.  
"Oh, yeah didn't really think of that." Sera looks down a bit disappointed by the reality.  
"We could name them _Sera's Batch_ that should be enough for people to question eating them." Lavellan's wit showing attention to the matter.  
Sera returns a smile in approval. "I've never had anything named after me before, and what's better than cookies?"  
The two go on about the different flavors matched with different poisons for a longer than they even expected.

A few days later Dorian is going through some of the inventory, as they prepare for an upcoming adventure. Noticing a small sack cloth he pulls it out… "Sera's Batch." He mumbles to himself. "I'm not touching that." He puts them back in place with full intent to question Sera about why she is stashing her sack lunch in with their weaponry. He makes his way to the tavern, for a well needed drink, as he hates taking inventory.  
Walking into the tavern he grabs a seat next to Krem and Bull who are in the middle of a discussion.  
"So, we leave them right on the table with a note reading - _for you my love - _because who doesn't have someone they think they love? The guy opens it and eats one right away. Choking he falls to the floor.  
His buddy comes along, not even thinking and sees his friend lying dead, and goes…_well, he won't miss these, _and then he falls over dead. Stitches couldn't stop laughing. I've got to tell you, Sera's Batch sure makes killing those assbuckets fun." The two laugh out loudly. "That's a good one Krem" Bull says turning his attention to Dorian, who has just decided to order a stronger drink. 


	4. The First Ride

She grew up riding the harts and halla in the Free Marches.  
The ride was a kind piece of freedom, the wind sweeping across her skin, the  
focus to move her body with the animal, being one. Everything soaring  
by in some sort of indistinct vision. So many days, getting lost in the forests.  
Never was there any other moment to feel free, than on the backs of those delicate beasts.

Growing up, always hiding from the shims, peaceful moments were few.  
However, once clan Lavellan turned their arovels to the forests, things began to change.  
They could step out into the forests and be hidden in the cover, a transient space of freedom.  
This is where she found her love of the hunt. Listening to the forest, learning the terrain.  
Always to be one step ahead of whatever life may be nearby.

Maybe it was just something that came naturally to the elven people.  
She never really thought of riding as something unnatural.

It felt good to be out riding again, bringing back a feeling of her life before fate stole her.  
The stables at Skyhold did well to hold her favorite friend but she hated to keep him pinned up so.  
So many journeys to be taken together. She always loved the beginning of a bond.

The stables were warm this day. The sun heating up the red fur.  
The smell of the damp wood, drying filled the mountain air. The leather from the saddles softening as they heat in the wake of the sun.  
The hart was always excited to see her. Nuzzling his snout into her hair.  
Their bond could be seen by anyone. Companions to the end, she would tell him brushing his coat.

Her happiness peeking through, everyone knew to leave her be on these days.  
They all have their ways of escaping the realities of this world and knew that was hers.

The hart stirs a bit, feeling the presence of another.  
"What's it like?" He whispers.  
"What do you mean?"  
"What's it like, riding?" He adds to clarify.  
"Have you never rode before Cole?"  
"No, I don't need to, I have other ways of traveling."  
"Do you want to try?"  
"I…I don't know…yes, I think so."  
"Then come with me."

She Finishes strapping down the saddle and grabs the reins, leading the hart out to the lands with Cole.

"Do you see this?" Iron Bull nudges Cullen as the two of them watch from the battlements where they were discussing the troop's needs.

"Makers breath, is she taking that…thing riding?" Cullen sighs shaking his head.  
"That's got to burn." Iron Bull cuts in at Cullen.

"What? No, no she is our leader… ..."  
"Aw, come on." Iron Bull prods at him more.  
Whispers carry throughout the castle, reaching everyone within.  
Sera climbs out onto the roof outside her window, cookie crumbs still rest on her shirt.  
"Better him than me", she sneers. "I hate riding."  
Cassandra just shakes her head thinking to herself no good could come of this.  
Dorian grabs Solas and heads out to the upper walkway.  
"You helped convince her to keep him." Dorian puts blame towards Solas.  
"I don't see a problem here." Solas cuts back.  
"You don't see a problem with an elf, which is also our Inquisitor, taking a spirit out riding? On their own…"  
Dorian leans in suggesting underlying danger or just the overwhelming need to watch.  
"Are you worried for our friends, Dorian or do you just want to feel the wind in your own hair?"  
Solas jeers, grabbing at Dorians intentions.  
"Well, I'm following them do as you will." Dorian says as he heads toward the tavern, gesturing his friends.  
Solas shakes his head, but follows regardless of his own thoughts on the situation.

Lavellan and Cole travel to the Emerald Graves.  
The ground is soft here and the harts are more comfortable in the forests she explains to Cole.  
"You just have to remember to listen to them, they will lead you and I'll be right beside you."  
"You aren't going to ride on with me?" Cole looks on nervously.  
"I can do that." She smiles at Cole.

"It is too bad Cullen is not here to see this!" Bull whispers at Dorian.  
"Is he getting on with her? Oh this is going to kill him."  
"Him? What about me?" Sera cuts in.  
"Oh, yeah sorry Sera we sometimes forget, you know, because you hate the elfy things so much." Bull stabs back.  
"Well, I don't hate titties." Sera jabs back.  
"Do you all quite mind?" Solas steps in as if to protect her honor.  
"Oh, shut it you, you know you like her lady bits too." Sera cuts in at him.  
"You are all salivating like wolves." Solas exasperates.  
"Sorry we aren't as good at hiding it as you are Solas." Sera says sticking out her tongue.  
They all fall silent now to watch what may unfold.

Lavellan starts their ride off slow, letting Cole hold her tight in his unease.  
Letting him adjust himself to the air, the stability, the feeling of being off the ground, but still on something.  
Talking him through the movements of the animal, letting him focus on the movements.  
She uses the same words she was given as a child, on her first ride.

As he settles himself into these sensations, Cole begins to hold her less tightly.  
He begins to understand. They ride in a gallop, gently across a small area of the Graves.  
Her focus set on his understanding, they ride as one for a short time. Letting him feel.  
Slowing to a halt, they dismount the hart.

"Okay Cole, are you ready now?" She smiles.  
"I understand better now, thank you."  
"Just stay calm and feel." She says holding onto the reins.

"Oh, now it's going to get good!" Sera crawls to the front of the group for a better view.  
"Hey, I'm the short one here." Varric finally opens his mouth.  
"I bet he flies off." Sera chuckles.  
"You mean like you would?" Varric jests back.  
"Shut it you, not all elves have to like riding."

Handing over the reins to Cole, Lavellan climbs up on her hart. Nodding at Cole to lead the way.  
They start off slow, walking the beast in a small area.  
Within what seems like moments, they are off with more speed.  
Galloping through the worn paths.  
Cole is shining brightly, smiling. He curls in closer to the beast as they race along the land.  
They ride, side by side now. Both focused and free.  
The wind around them like a playful spirit.  
Hair flowing, faces focused, bodies one with the animal they sit upon.

"Well, this is shite, I'm heading back." Sera frumps off disappointed.  
"What? Too elfy for you?" Varric joins her.  
"Well, at least I can update Cullen before he loses his mind.  
"You coming Solas?" Bull gestures.  
"I'll be along in a moment." He nods back. Looking in his perceptive way.  
"He would be in it." Sera jeers.

As the group quietly leaves, Solas finds a better spot with a wider view.  
Watching the two as they let go of everything around them.  
The wind in their hair, the spirits within them as one.  
A freedom he longs for, a freedom he fights for, right in front of him.  
Spirit and mortal, together, riding side by side. Happy and free.


	5. Undercroft Craft

Lavellan always enjoys her stays back at Skyhold.  
She is still amazed by the grandeur of her new home.  
When she is not addressing her advisers, or spending time with her new friends;  
she often walks the halls and battlements of Skyhold.  
There are days when the others sit in the tavern and discuss her to themselves.

"I hope she is doing okay." Varric always the concerned one.  
"She is tough, even the Qun recognized this."  
"I don't get it." Sera shakes her head throwing up her arms,  
"there are baddies and people too small for their hats, but she is huge and stays small."  
"There are not many people I admire. However, I'm still done picking all that elfroot." Dorian jests.

The tavern is dim, warm, and the songs fill the air around them.  
Drunken laughter and a unity is building in this place.  
The group is diverse as has ever been seen.  
Alliances between enemies sit in the wooden chairs,  
leaving behind enough power to resonate throughout the walls.

That night, Lavellan quietly leaves her quarters too busy in thought to sleep.  
She sneaks her way to the undercroft, everyone has met their slumber.  
Finding peaceful moments here, thought it is hard and cold. it keeps her alert.  
She pulls out her blades, a bit worn from the many uses of late.  
Sitting to sharpen her blades. Slowly grinding the blade against the stone. Sparks flying around her.  
She moves the blade up and down the spinning stone carefully.  
Her love of her craft can be seen across her face. There is intent and commitment in her movements.

She is not the only one stirred this night and she soon feels the presents of another.  
He walks slowly over to her, in his proud manner. Before he can speak, she is already taking note of him.  
She stops her craft and turns to look at him, "I am sorry if I made you stir."

"You did not make me do anything, I am here because I want to be."  
His eyes filled with the beauty he held her in. Pulling out his staff he starts working on some improvements of his own.

They sit in silence, each perfecting their weapons in steady thought.

After getting her blades to the perfect edge she goes to sheath them.  
He walks over before she can do so. "May I?" Holding out his hand.  
She raised an eyebrow tilting her head in question.  
"He places his hands on her blades and recites an old elven blessing.  
Like a song leaving his lips and she is lost for a moment, in him."  
Pulling the blades from her hands he sheaths the weapons that she wields in complete grace.

Passion is filling the area around them.  
She sits still and steady watching his hands as the move towards her.  
Her body is tingling and heart beats hard. Keeping her breath feels impossible.  
"You should sleep we have a long day tomorrow."  
Looking at him in longing she whispers, "how can I in a moment like this?"  
Pulling her hands towards his chest, he pulls her up from her seat and places a gentle kiss on her lips.  
Their bodies fully touching now, he holds her close for a moment.  
He leads her out of the undercroft and hand in hand they walk toward her quarters.  
No words are shared between the two on the walk up the steps. None are needed.  
He pulls back the covers of her bed and gently lays her down.  
Kneeling beside her, his knees on the floor. She holds his hand close to her chest, her heart beat radiating through him.  
Brushing his fingers through her hair, he stays by her side until she falls into sleep.

Quietly walking out to the main hall, staff in hand he is met by an unexpected face.  
"Varric. "He states in an awkward stance.  
"Solas," Varric replies walking on in avoidance.

Varric had been sitting at his table by the fire the whole time,  
He saw Lavellan go to the undercroft although he did not see Solas go in, just come out,  
and he assumed Solas was already in there.  
He goes into the undercroft to nose about, as spying is his pastime.  
On the table lay Lavellan's weapons. Shining and sharp.  
"Well, I guess they were working on something after all, disappointing." Varric mumbles to himself.  
Leaving the undercroft he is left in thought.

Many nights pass and there is no sign of Solas and Lavellan meeting or interacting beyond their fighting,  
discussing of the enemy they face, or the hours Lavellan lays on the couch in Solas room asking  
boring questions about the Fade and weird spirit stuff.

There has got to be something going on, Varric thinks to himself.  
Those two are connected, I just don't know how.

A few more nights pass, and again Lavellan make her way quietly to the undercroft.  
Sharping her blades.  
This time, Varric has stashed himself in a crate. If he were to figure it out, he had to be in the place itself;  
confiding in himself to distract from the awkward position he finds himself in.  
This time, as the last, Solas shows up. They work on their craft in mostly silence and just the same,  
Solas says something in elven like a blessing or song and walks Lavellan off to bed.  
Never staying long enough to justify anything more.

Varric, leaves the croft after a safe amount of time, just shaking his head.  
Unable to shake the feeling that there is something more.

Out in battle, Varric has become more aware of the movements and actions of his new elf friends.

Sera, elf as she may not think she is, plays her battlefield.  
Every movement she makes is to find an advantage and show up her combatants.  
She has mastered her skills to the point of being bored by kills.  
She makes up for that in her mild taunts and playful mannerisms.  
If an enemy gets too close, you can catch her slipping her knife across their straps making them lose their breastplate or satchels,  
as she flips back sending a barrage of arrows to meet them.  
Grinning as she stops to wave their stolen goods at them as they take their last breath.

Solas is protective on the battlefield. He uses a magic that is rare and just experiencing the fight with him is a lesson in itself.  
He holds no joy in his fight (as Sera does) but he is fierce.  
Even though he may not admit to the fun, there is nothing quite like the moment where a giant fade fist just upper cuts the face of an unprepared foe.  
I cannot believe he does not secretly think to himself – EAT IT!  
Bull once tried to get him out of his shell and boast a bit, but he completely bored up the moment.  
Solas is just so real, it sometimes hurts. Someone need to put some elfroot in his drink.  
Varric sighs thinking about the battle banter that is lost in his matter of fact ways. As Sera would say, too elfy.

Lavellan may be tiny, but she hits harder than expected. After seeing how she treats her blades,  
I understand her more on the battlefield.  
She is a huntress, stalking her prey, twisting in and out of a fight leaving the enemy shaking in his boots  
wondering where the next hit is going to come from.  
She is like a dance with death and she is leading the way.

I am pretty sure she enjoys killing the shems, though I am not sure I want to know her answer.  
If I have learned anything thing about elves from her it would be - don't mess with their hunters.  
In the very beginning she had skills, we all saw them.  
When we were out hunting some rams for the people in the Hinterlands,  
out of the blur she disappears and then reappears with both knives hooked into the ram, as it falls.  
I thought the ram was going to just run off dragging her with him, so I looked at Solas who sends a burst of ice,  
only to be met with her sheathing her blades.  
But, the moment I started watching her, I mean really watching her, I saw her literally gut a guy.  
It's not enough that she stabs bother her knives into their backs ripping them to the ground,  
but I have seen her reappear in front of another and take her blade, right across his gut, then dash over to hit the next guy.

But, the craziest moment, is when her and Solas meet eyes as the last foe hits the ground.  
Both still in their battle stances, facing each other. Their breathing labored and they both just… look at each other.  
It just makes me think harder about her, her knife love, and Solas doing whatever weird elf stuff he does to her blades.


	6. Elves and Their Bugs

"Inquisitor you are joking, right?" Leliana furrows her brow, pursing her lips. Her arms now crossed to accentuate her annoyance.  
"You can't tell me it would not be enjoyable." Lavellan shows no intent to waver from her request.  
"And what happens if these critters get loose here?" The Spymaster's final attempt to avert the request.  
Lavellan just smiles back.  
Walking down from Leliana's spire, Varric is on the opposite path heading to make a request of his own with Leliana.  
A smile and nod between the two as Lavellan is clearly in thought. A goofy grin paints her face.  
Varric cannot help to wonder what that is all about.  
Meeting with the Spymaster who is still shaking her head. Both hands placed on her desk as she is  
looking down also in thought.  
"So, is this a bad time?" He pokes at Leliana, testing the timing of his request.  
"No, Varric I'm just…never mind it's nothing." Choosing to not open the discussion.  
"I can come back you know." Varric even more curious of Lavellan's grin.  
"Sure, sure that is fine." Leliana clearly not paying much mind to the dwarf.  
Varric leaves Leliana to whatever is on her mind, "Andraste's ass." Mumbling to his self.  
He heads back to his spot by the fire, waiting to see if either of the two leave.

It does not take long before Leliana head's out toward the stables.  
Varric follows from a distance, finding a spot in the stable loft to remain unseen.

Leliana gathers some of the scouts around Skyhold, requesting they meet her in the stables.  
"You want us to do what?" The scouts question the odd request.  
"Just lift some rocks. Get it done." Her commanding reply.

While out on mission scouts are lifting rocks, collecting bugs into jars.  
Some scouts look in, questioning their friends. Clearly an odd action coming from the scouts.  
Others decide to whisper about it back at camp while relaxing with a game of Wicked Grace.  
"Always something going on around here." One scout says to another, shaking his head.

Varric barely made out much of the conversation, but knows the scouts are looking for something they are just as confused over as he.  
"Shit just gets even stranger around here." The dwarf mumbles to his self, filled with curiosity and disturbed by unanswered events.  
"At least our leader isn't stale."

Lavellan is busy in the tavern with Bull, Krem, Dorian, and Cole. Varric had wondered where everyone had been.  
"So, leaving me out of the fun again I see" Varric walks in taking charge of the scene.  
"Varric, we have been wondering where you have been hiding. Here grab this ribbon, you can get the low spots."  
Iron Bull says, always looking for an opportunity to make fun of his short friend.  
"Great, and here I thought we'd be drinking."  
"Oh we will be." Dorian cuts in to the conversation.  
"What exactly are we doing?" Varric lets out his wonder.  
"It's a party!" Cole answers, bringing in a couple Nugs.  
"A party, with Nugs?" Varric questions.  
"It's Sera's birthday, Varric."  
"Oh, well shit. This ought to be interesting." Varric thinks out loud.

Continuing the decorating and wrapping gifts, Varric eases his thoughts over the activity between the spymaster and Lavellan.

The party went off without a hitch. Everyone passed out in their seats or on the floor.  
Cullen managed to keep his clothes in the rounds of Wicked Grace. Not the same could be said for Sera.  
She easily lost, everything.  
Making her way up to her room before the others wake to witness her walk of shame.  
Greeted by one final gift, left set on her window seat.  
She throws on her mustard stained shirt and quickly opens her gift.  
Unwrapping the gift, a case of clear jar's exposed.  
"Are those? Earwigs!" Sera lets out an excited scream. "So many earwigs!"  
Lavellan is already standing in her doorway, rustled from her attempted secret walk.  
Now looking at her friends whose face is beaming with malicious thought.  
"Please tell me there is a party in Val Royeaux soon, I know just where these are going?"

"Inquisitor, I will be sure to present her Duchess with our rejection letter.  
I had hoped she would see reason." Josephine addresses the failed attempt to sway the noble to agree to releasing her elven slaves, freely.  
"If nothing comes of this matter we may need to take, _other measures_." Leliana never misses an opportunity to show her hand.  
"I hope these well-placed threats will change her mind."

Val Royeaux nobility never spare any expense on their boastful parties.  
The finest attire, most precious china, and excessive displays of wealth poured out in haughty displays to flaunt their superiority.

The heavy wooden door creaks open, exposing the kitchen staff. Overwhelmed with preparations.  
The elves have been working all-day to be sure everything is at its finest, in fear of the treatment that comes  
if there is even the slightest, unlucky accident.  
A few of the elves look over to see their fabled one, who holds a finger to lips.  
A hush that brings joy to the room.  
Passing over a liquid used to spike the vats of wine and rum; their smiles broaden.

"Did you hear her?" Josephine asks Leliana.  
"No, but I still would drink from your own cup." Leliana passes Josephine a vintage bottle to bring in.  
The women know that every party is a gamble.

Shining crystals reflect light around the exquisite ballroom. Everyone in their finest wears.  
Tipping glasses and laughter's grow as the nobles mock and critique every room  
in the noble's house. Scoffing and smiling; greeting and smirking. Playing their games in slight and bonding.  
The party, a symbol of perfection.  
The room filled with laughter and plenty of touching and feeling.  
Maybe more so than usual.  
"Did the Duke just feel up Lady Greisen?"  
"It seems that we were correct to bring our own drinks." Leliana confides, thoroughly enjoying the vulgar displays, clearly induced.  
A harrowing scream quickly silences the laughter as a woman runs past the two.  
People seen flailing their arms and moving in panic as earwigs scurry across the floors.  
Off in the doorways the elven slaves are laughing behind their hands.  
Sera blows a kiss in Leliana and Josephine's direction before she slips out with the rest of her crew.

What seems a simple amount of bugs, intensified by the doses in the drinks making the bugs seem larger than life.  
The nobles see the elves turned into haunting demons, sneering in their laughter as if the gods sent them to  
torment the nobles for their refusal to free their kind.

"Well, it seems we may soon be gaining the Duchesses agreement after all."  
Leliana says to Josephine as they exit the hysteria around them.

The story reaches the Halls of Skyhold quickly.  
Varric meets with Leliana to see if the rumors are true.  
"Let's just say, never question the Inquisitor when she asks for bugs."  
Varric is left shaking his head once more.


End file.
